Back To Reality

Flew back to PoCo today and while I tried to check in online the day before, Alaska's website said No.

So, I had to check in at the counter, which was OK, as I thought that might prevent me from forgetting to check my bulging 75lb duffel bag. No way would that thing sneak through security.

I hefted my bag onto the scale and the nice agent read the result - 64lbs. I left a couple of pairs of shoes and some clothes in Alameda, but not enough... 14lbs overweight.

She told me, "It's overweight, do you have something to put it in?"
"Put it in?" I answered? My stupidity? The tequila? "Put WHAT in?"
"The extra 14lbs - do you have something you can put it in?"
I'm thinking, Like what? Do you see an empty bag materializing before our eyes?

I told her no, I knew the bag was overweight and I would just have to pay the overage fee. $50. Yikes! But, hey, I got away with it on the way down, so it seemed like a fair deal.

On the first plane I had the pleasure of sitting next to a very loud little boy and his louder younger brother. Thankfully, I had the forethought to recharge my iPod the night before. These kids were born without the Inside Voice Gene and their mother was born with poor hearing. Such a pleasure.

A few rows up from me a guy about my dad's age settled into his seat with a fresh copy of the National Enquirer. By the end of the flight, he seemed to be all caught up on Miley Cyrus and the stars of Twilight.

Just before our scheduled departure, two actual A-Holes boarded the flight with large carry ons and complained loudly to each other that they'd have to move some things around [in the overhead bins].

The second flight was uneventful, though tiny prop jets always make me nervous. It just looks like at any moment, it might stop spinning, and down we'll go like a hot rock. I did another crossword and hoped for the best.

Of course, I returned to grey skies and rain. Very funny. It was sunny and warmer in Canada than in Alameda while I was gone. Canada is kind of a bitch.

How To Travel Like a Dumbass

A step-by-step guide, should you need it. I don't - I'm a pro.

• Pack a 75lb duffel bag that will help pull you down the front steps of your house and strain your back if you try to lift it. It has wheels, so go ahead - stuff that sucker.
• Cook yourself some eggs. You're going to need the protein. Trust me.
• Say a lengthy goodbye to each of your three cats and angry parrot, who doesn't appreciate you waking him up at 5:30 a.m. just because you couldn't wait to get to Palm Springs.
• Leave 40 minutes later than you should. Enjoy the rush hour traffic.
• At the airport, blaze right through to Customs and forget the U.S. Customs Declaration Form. You're departing from Canada - this should not be necessary, as all the crap you have was bought or imported from the U.S.
• Go all the way back out to the airline counters to fill out your stupid customs form. Your flight boards in 10 minutes.
• Blaze back through to Customs and forget to check your 75lb duffel bag.
• Proceed through Customs to Security with your 75lb duffel bag that has no airline tag.
• At Security, realize no one will know where to send your stupid 75lb duffel bag. Ask Security Dude for help. Get directed to the only phone in the area you can use to call the airline counter. Your flight boards in 5 minutes.
• Find only phone in-use by a man who has no intention of releasing his desperate grip on the receiver.
• Ask man politely to use the phone "real quick." He says "Sorry, mum needs her medication." Man's wife explains that she checked her bag by mistake and it's the bag with all her medication in it. She must get it back.
• Plead with Security Dude for help. You will not be allowed back through Customs without an airline representative. There is only one phone. Calling the airline's customer service # won't help - they cannot call the check-in counter (which is odd, don't you think?). Your flight is now boarding.
• Return to magical phone and plead with Mr. Medication to make your call before you miss your flight. He capitulates and hands over the receiver. Call the check-in counter and obsequiously ask the very nice lady to bring a tag for your stupid 75lb duffel bag. Thank her profusely. (BTW, this is one way to circumvent baggage weight overage charges.)
• Wait for the very nice lady with your tag. It will feel like a half day before she arrives, slowly walking her pregnant belly into Security. Thank her again profusely, affix tag to your bag and drag your luggage onto the belt. Thank Security Dude for the tip to put it on the "fragile" belt that's faster than the regular one. Your flight is boarding.
• Wait in the long security line to have your carry-on screened. Luck out by getting behind two families with small children. Resist barking at little Sally to put her damned binky in the bin and to stop crying. Smile even though it feels like your face might crack.
• Get your crap scanned by four - FOUR - screeners crowded around the X-ray monitor, all of whom appear to be in training as they casually discuss with each other the different shapes and objects they're studying. Watch them shift the belt into reverse repeatedly. Your flight is almost done boarding.
• Wait 3 days for your stuff to clear the X-ray machine. When it finally arrives on the other side of Never, quickly repack the laptop and your dangerous lotion & chapstick, put on your jacket and put your shoes back on. You should lace them up, but you won't have time. Your flight is about to leave.
• Run. Keep running. Your gate is all the way at the end of the terminal. Keep running. Hear the final call for your flight. Keep running.
• Run all the way to the gate and rejoice at seeing another family with small children ahead of you.
• Hand your boarding pass & passport to the annoyed gate agent. Tell her you really like her necklace. Smile as she smiles back and says, "Thank you! Welcome aboard!"

Home Sweet Home

There's no place like home... Home, home on the range, where the bird and the retarded cats play...

It was wonderful to finally get home last night after Southwest fucked us with a late flight they didn't even try to explain. It's obvious they couldn't care less. What a bunch of grumblecake losers.

Home by midnight, in bed by 1 a.m., then I had to get up early to go to City Hall and get the official paperwork for next month.

Couldn't wait to get home after work and collapse on the couch. After a stop at the store for firewood, red wine and other critical supplies, I was home, ready to relax into Friday night.

Our pleasant time was quickly ruined when Ninja, Chimpee the Ass Monkey, aka "Coat Fucker," peed into a box of new garden lights I had on the dining room table.

He's done this a few times before, but seemingly only in times of extreme stress, like after we moved here. We quickly cleaned up that nightmare and a few minutes later the littlest one upchucked her dinner. She'd eaten a scrap of Henry's toy & garked it back up.

Got that all cleaned up and went to the store to buy another litter box just for Chimpee. Brought it home, set it up, then sat down to have some red wine and bread with olive tapenade.

David had been snacking while I was at the store and there was a bite of bread left in the bowl. I went to eat it and right when I put it into my mouth he said, "oh, I may have dropped that on the floor."

I spat it out and just stared at him. I'm too tired to be angry. I'm not sure what happened to the planets today, but something is awry and I hope it corrects itself soon.